No Longer Optional
by Ana Rozaline
Summary: As Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy enter their third month in their fourth year, the two realize they aren't so different after all. A Drarry fluff fanfic that I came up with when I was sick. No MA content, but much swearing and self-harm references. This is my first published fanfic, so be nice! Also has some romance references later on, but is mainly hurt/comfort, friendship based.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

When did Harry Potter start acting differently? When did he, the Boy Who Fucking Lived, The Savior of the Wizarding World, and Gryffindor's Mascot start being scared? When did his 'high and mighty' attitude become just an act? Why wasn't I, the Prince of Slytherin, absolutely repulsed by the blood traitor who committed himself to filthy muggle-borns and Weasleys? He became pale when approached with an angry or disapproving look. He cringed when Granger yelled at him. He looked pained when Weasley patted him on the back. He always tried his best in class, but when Granger told him something he did was wrong, he gave up. Ginny clearly annoyed him more than he let on. Had I been oblivious for years to what had been right in front of my face?

"Draco!" I heard a familiar, nasally voice yell at me. I looked up from my breakfast. It was much to early for me to have to deal with Pansy Parkinson. What had she been talking about? Fuck. She was going to off again for me ignoring her.

"Do you have any idea what I have been saying?" There it was. That sentence that she just loved to throw at me when I decided that I'd had enough of her voice. I'd never tell her that though.

"I have no idea, what was that, _sweetheart_?" I sneered, basically hissing out 'sweetheart'. I could guess what she had been going on about, but I decided to be smart with her. It made me laugh to see that pug face wrinkle up more.

"Where do you want to get married? I don't want to decide everything!" She screeched. I cringed, her voice actually hurt sometimes. Again, she brings up the one subject I'd rather just forget. This stupid arranged marriage was just pissing me off. Did my parents think that marrying me off to Pansy Parkinson was going to change my being bent?

"Honestly Pansy, I don't care. Just make sure it's not snowing or so hot you'll sweat off all your makeup." I said, snickering at the idea of someone managing to make her look nice. She'd say they did it all wrong, of course.

"I knew that! But I don't know if it should be in the United States or if we should go somewhere else..." She whined. I zoned out again, thinking of last night. If Lucius hadn't seen me and Blaise kissing when we were five he'd never have arranged my marriage. It had been innocent, and it wasn't as though we knew it was wrong. We just wanted to feel loved, something our parents couldn't give. My father was a decent man, beyond all of his prejudices. Muggle-borns, blood traitors, and gay men were all on the same reject list to my father.

That's when _he_ walked by. Potter. He didn't look awake enough to be in the presence of the student body. His hair was messier than usual (Was that even _possible?_) and his robes hung in a rather humorous fashion. I watched him walk over to the Gryffindor table and sit next to Granger. Merlin knows how he could stand the know-it-all. She never stopped correcting people, even professors. There should be a fine for correcting someone as old as McGonagall. I laughed to myself, remembering Snape's face when she had corrected him the first time. Fifty points disappeared from Gryffindor's total. I laughed for ages over that incident. Recently, he has given up on punishing her. He just nods and continues with his lesson. It's quite boring in comparison to his old actions. Weasley decides he's on the wrong side of the table and sits next to Granger, between Potter and her. He was so protective, and yet they weren't even dating. Potter looked unphased by it. Actually, he didn't seem to notice the change at all. He wasn't paying attention to anything.

Potter suddenly stood up from the table, put some food in a parchment bag, and walked out of the grand hall. He hadn't even sat long enough to take a sip of orange juice. He definitely hadn't eaten anything. What was he up to? It was time for me to find out exactly why he was acting so odd. It was odd behaviour even for him.

I followed him up some corridors I had never been in. I stayed a good distance back, but I still cast over me a cloaking spell. He walked into a very familiar loo. It was the only one no girl even went near. Moaning Myrtle was annoying enough that even I understood why. Why was Potter going into that wretched place? I stepped in, standing at the door, completely invisible. Potter was removing his robes. I watched as he loosened the tie and tossed it to the ground, along with the cloak. He slowly undid the buttons on his shirt. As he pulled the thin fabric from his back, my eyes widened with shock. Long, precise cuts covered his back, some old and some new. Similar cuts covered his wrists, but more shocking were the burns. I couldn't believe what I saw. He had kept this a secret for so long. I was sure he hadn't told Granger or Weasley. Neither seemed nice enough to him to be aware of this. Potter grabbed his bag and pulled out a bag of muggle remedies. I knew none of them would work. They would merely help the pain. My magic gave out as I started to cry, and with an invisible wave in the air, the spell I had cast upon myself fell away. My gasps for air became audible, and so did Potter's outcry of shock.

"P...Potter, it can't be true..." I whispered, unable to use my voice. I walked towards him, my wand in my hand. He backed up to the wall, shaking his head.

"Don't tell anyone!" he yelled, his voice almost as dead as mine. He hadn't wanted anyone to see this part of him, much less me. He didn't even go to Pomfrey for help.

"I won't. I can't even think of betraying this..." I rasped, my voice so hoarse with my tears. I muttered a spell under my breath, healing one of the burns partially. "That muggle stuff won't help. Let me," I said, my voice returning as I calmed. He wouldn't stop shaking, but I accepted that as one by one, I healed each wound as much as I could. Some were old scars, still prevalent from years and years of abuse, but some were newer, from just a few months ago. None of the large injuries had occurred in Hogwarts walls. Only the wrist cuts had been that recent. I cast a bone evaluation spell, and his wrist glowed a light purple. I lightly pulled his hand to me, feeling for where the the break was. Harry hissed through his teeth, from the contact or from pain, I wasn't sure. The first knuckle on his right hand was clearly broken, as was a small bone in his wrist.

"How do you write with a broken hand?" I asked, quite confused. He held up his left hand, signaling a quill on parchment. "Left handed?" I inquired, and he nodded.

"I...I punch with my right, though." He said, and looked away from me. So had he gotten a punch in on his abuser? Good for him. I'd never get that kind of leverage with Narcissa. My injuries were invisible, her weapon of choice being the Cruciatus Curse. I was left on the floor unconscious every time. I never had enough strength to get her back once she was done.

"Who does this to you?" I asked, casting a variety of spells over his knuckle and wrist. As I moved my hand down his arm, I felt the extent of his self-harm activities and wondered how he didn't bleed to death.

"M...My...my aunt." He stuttered, tears falling as the bones pulled back together. I knew exactly the pain he was in. Once I was done, and I could not find any more injuries, I hugged him. It was light, gentle, and full of the one emotion both of us needed. Love.

Draco Malfoy was hugging me. Of all people to even remotely care, Draco seemed to more than anyone else. I was so nervous I didn't even hug back. I couldn't. I would just get hurt again if I tried to. As he pulled away, I saw on his face the most genuine smile I had ever seen. Did he really care about me, one of many people he hated, that much? It wasn't possible, nobody could truly care about me. I was worthless, wasn't I? I was just a worthless idiot who nobody could truly love. If it seemed like anyone loved me, it had to be a lie. So how could I trust this person, the one who had seemed to hate me almost as much as my insane aunt. How could I trust someone who had tortured me every day since I rejected his offer of friendship? I couldn't, not yet anyways. He would have to prove himself to be trusted.

"How can I believe that you won't hurt me?" I asked, my voice trembling.

"I don't know, but you'll have to try." He said, a familiar confident tone entering his voice.

"Don't you hate me?" I ask, wondering why he had helped in the first place.

"No, I can't hate anyone in the same position as me. Much less another pureblood." He whispers, as though someone will hear him.

"You are too?" I whisper, knowing he will know what I mean.

"Yes," he sighs. "My mother hates children."

"Even you?"

"Especially me. I ruined her life."

"My aunt says the same thing," I state, my voice tight and full of locked up emotion. He nods, and stops for a second to think.

"Do you want me to come to your dormitory? I don't want you to hurt yourself anymore." He asks, gesturing to my wrists. I stop in my tracks. He wants to sleep in my dormitory? He wants to protect me? He doesn't want me to hurt myself? I think for a moment, weighing the decision I have to make. Nod.

Separation is no longer optional. For either of us.


	2. Chapter 1: Realizations

**Chapter 1: Realizations**

A/N: I never expected that this story would have two subscribes in just a few hours! I really can't believe that you guys like this enough to follow it! Remember, reviews and subscribes keep me going. If you subscribe, at least leave a review, even if it's only one sentence. Now, on with the story!

Disclaimer: I do not own any recognizable characters/places in this story!

I didn't want to wake up. The bed was too warm to leave. Why was Draco so warm when he slept? I slowly opened my eyes. He was curled up, his hands under his head. After two weeks I still couldn't understand why he cared so much. He never left my side. Ever. Unless it was class time, and it wasn't a class we had together, he was always watching me, always asking me questions. Draco shifted positions a bit, moaning a bit. It almost sounded like talking, but it was indiscernible to me. His platinum hair, which was so perfect after a shower, was currently a mess, strewn across his pillow. How many times had I gotten lost in those shiny locks, admired him as he dressed in the morning? I had lost count. I hated knowing that my feeling for him couldn't be returned. He was engaged to that pug-faced, evil girl, Pansy Parkinson. Nobody liked her. Draco didn't either, but he didn't have an option. They were to be married at the end of this year. So young, I thought, but by pureblood wizard standards, it was perfectly normal.

Draco started to wake up, his gentle groans causing me to smile. He rubbed his eyes like a child, and managed to get out "Morning," before sitting up and looking around. The curtains on the bed were closed, as to conceal his presence in a Gryffindor common room. It was perfectly allowable, but the other guys, Seamus in particular, would kill him. Then I would be tried for treason. But honestly, it wouldn't turn out well. His father would probably catch word and he would be married off before the month's end. I don't think I'd be able to take it. He was the only person who knew my secret.

"How'd you sleep?" I asked quietly. He turned to me, gave a thumbs up, and half-smiled before collapsing onto his pillow. He grinned at me and held out a hand, asking for help up. I got up and walked to the other side of the bed, standing inside the curtains. I grabbed his outstretched hand, and pulled as he sat up. He stepped outside of the curtains and grabbed his shower bag. I nodded, and grabbed my own, walking towards the showers.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I stood in front of the mirror, my hair not quite working with me. Actually, fully arguing with me. Frustrated, I pulled out my wand and used a spiking spell. Once done, I finished it by getting the back to lay correctly. I looked over at Harry, jealous of his perfect hair. All he had to do was put this muggle goo in it and run his hands through it. It always ended up looking perfect in this "See-how-many-shits-I-don't-give" kind of style. It pissed me off. I always took longer to get ready. He said it was my feminine side showing. Pfft, he didn't even know the extent of it.

"Draco, you ready yet?" He asked, unaware of how frustrated I was over that exact issue.

"No, are you, mon ami?" I asked, hiding my anger sufficiently.

"Almost, I just have to grab my bag," he said, almost smug. "How much longer? We have to go before the others wake up."

"Just a minute, let me put on my tie."

"No," He said walking over to me."Let me." He whispered in my ear, taking it from my hands. I shivered slightly, hidden by the fact that it was _freezing_ in there. He still laughed, probably completely unaffected by the temperature. He was his own personal fire, he didn't need heat to be warm.

"Is this truly necessary?" I asked, my voice more confident than the rest of me. He smiled, and nodded.

"You suck at fixing your tie. How do you ever make it into the grand hall?"

"Blaise helps me." I mumbled, half hoping he wouldn't hear it.

"Hmm, he doesn't look like the helpful type." He said, unaware of how offensive that was to me. I reigned in my emotion before I answered.

"Neither do I, really. But here I am," I said, one of my trademark smart-ass comments. I loved it when I said something that messed with people. They always stared at me in this "Oh hell no, bitch!" fashion that made me want to roll around laughing.

"Smart-ass." he said, before playfully smacking my face and walking away. He was so obvious. No straight man would act this way, not even with his girlfriend. Not that it made a difference. He still wasn't mine to have.

We made our way down to the grand hall for breakfast. Both of us were starved, having had missed supper for quidditch practice. We separated before anyone could see us, retaining our "mortal enemies" appearance. A sudden friendship would spark rumors about our night life, which would end up as disgusting Quibbler headlines that nobody wanted to read. House rivalry would become more tense and I would become an outcast from my house and family. He handed me a note before running to his table. I stuffed it into my wand pouch and sat at my own table.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hermione was angry at Ron again. I didn't know why. I didn't exactly care why, either. They were always arguing over something, whether it was his copying her papers, or just his improper manners. It always turned into some kind of "the end of the world" dramatic event. If the zombie apocalypse occurred in front of their faces, they would argue over who would get turned first. I tuned it out, stretching my arms across the table, allowing my chin to hit the table-top. Luna was looking over at me, with the same absent-minded smile she always gave me. I smiled back, gesturing for her to come sit with us. She was the only one who was observant enough to gather that I was bent. She never hit on me, and never asked me questions about who I thought was cute. Ginny did both. All the time. She thought it was subtle. It was more obvious than yelling it with a bullhorn from the top of Astronomy Tower.

"Hello Harry, how are you?" she asked, her gentle, soothing voice always so calming.

"I'm alright, how about you, Luna?" I asked, my voice falling into a similar pattern to hers. It always happened when I was with her. It was too easy to speak gently to her. If I spoke any other way, It felt as though she would just shatter like glass, so fragile. And yet she was the exact opposite.

"I'm okay. Someone hid my cork necklace again." She trilled, almost as though she was singing.

"Really? I thought they were done with that." I said, my head lolling to one side. She shrugged, sighing deeply.

"It's just how they are. I'm used to it."

"So, what are you going to do today?" I inquired, wondering what such a strange person did on her Sundays.

"Oh, I was planning on taking Ginny out. She doesn't know I'm lezzie." She said, so nonchalantly. Had I been drinking something, it would have gone all over poor Neville's face.

"You are?" I asked, utterly shocked.

"Mhmm. I always have been." She stated, her expression completely unchanged by my change of emotion.

So now, not only am I bent, so is Luna Lovegood. That was going to kill Neville if he ever found out.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I meant to put an author's note on the prologue, but I completely forgot. OTL forgive me! I'm such a terrible person! But anyways, expect much more from me in the coming weeks. If I update slow over the week, it's only because of school and band. I will update ASAP! ~LOVE, ANA


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